Bathsheba and a Wife's Blind Spots

Bathsheba was a woman who believed in making a strong first impression.

I was sitting at home on a boring week-day, reading a boring newspaper on my boring bourgeois sofa in my tastefully-decorated living room when the front door bell rang.

I answered the door to gaze upon this stunning vision from another world; a fantasy world, the type of world you would want to be transported to in a dream, locked inside and never let out of again.

Bathsheba was about five foot ten inches tall with long black hair, piercing blue eyes, perfectly-sculpted cheek bones and large red lips. She wore a red lace bikini top with a matching collar, blue lace bikini panties, a black leather belt and black patent leather thigh-high boots with two matching silver bracelets on her wrists. She had lovely long legs, elegant knees, powerful thighs, a firm stomach and full breasts and looked to be aged in her mid-20s. If I had wanted to design a woman built for sin I could not have constructed one any better. Think of your favourite movie sexpot and then double it and you might come somewhere close to imagining how sexy Bathsheba was.

I was her willing captive from the first moment I saw her and I did not want early parole.

She said, in a calm, dark velvet voice: "Hello, I'm here to see Mrs Arbiter about the spare room. I'm Bathsheba, she'll be expecting me."

I doubt it, I thought. Mrs Arbiter was my wife and I presumed she'd taken the booking for the 'room to let' in our home on the phone, sight-unseen. No way would any sane woman allow this vision of loveliness into the same house she shared with a red-blooded husband like myself. Unless she had some serious blind spots...

I said: "Of course, Sarah mentioned you were coming. Bathsheba! What a lovely name! Very pleased to meet you. I'm Simon, her husband. Please come inside, it's rather cold for...for what you're wearing..."

Bathsheba shrugged. She stood there on the doorstep, as if considering whether to enter or not. Oh god, please don't let me have put her off!

She said: "I work as a model and I came straight here after work, from a fashion shoot. We don't always wear a lot of practical clothes, Mr Arbiter, I'm afraid.

"I just jumped in my car and rushed over here, as I had no time to change. I didn't want to keep Mrs Arbiter waiting. I hope my appearance does not offend you. I really need this room."

Swallowing hard, I replied: "Good, good, I mean, sure, no problem. I was guessing you didn't come here in that outfit on the underground or bus! Please feel free to call me Simon. I'm sure we can come...to a mutually advantageous arrangement...Did you find a parking space okay?"

If she noticed the delicate flirting in my manner, Bathsheba ignored it. Nodding assent, she walked past me as I held the door open for her and, without waiting, went straight into the living room where my wife was also now sitting on an armchair. Sarah must have come downstairs while I was speaking to Bathsheba at the door.

I was left still standing open-mouthed at the door, where I got a generous view of the back of Bathsheba; it was a sight worth beholding and I found my cock start to get hard inside my jeans.

By the time I had recovered enough to join Bathsheba and my wife in the living room, Sarah already was giving me my latest orders. Had she heard me flirting?

Sarah said: "Darling, I have to finish these tax returns. Can you show Bathsheba up to the room so she can have a look around? Then she can come back down and we'll finish the rest of the details and paperwork together, just the two of us? Is that okay? I need to get these tax forms done today, right now, as I'm expecting an urgent call from my doctor soon that may change things."

I stood there looking rather gormless. I'd forgotten about the doctor thing.

I replied, in a weak voice: "Of course, dear, carry on with your tax. Er -- you mean show her to the spare bedroom?"

Sarah did not shift her eyes from the paperwork and sounded impatient now.

She said: "Yes, yes, of course, the bedroom. What else did you think? Oh, I guess you can show her the bathroom too while you're up there."

Thinking of Bathsheba in my bathroom made me squirm even more and my erection got harder, pushing its way towards the ceiling. If she lived with us she'd have to take a shower and there was no lock on the door. What if I walked in on her, purely by accident of course? I was certainly "up" now, and getting upper and harder, but Sarah did not notice. Why was that not surprising, I thought ruefully, and wondered when the sex had gone out of our marriage.

Bathsheba was a different story. She seemed to be staring at the bulge in my groin and -- was it my imagination? -- she seemed to have a knowing grin on her face.

Taking the initiative again, Bathsheba glided past me with the self-confidence of a fashion model on a catwalk and then ascended the stairs in her feline thigh-length boots. As I was trying to nurse a hard-on, I was walking slowly behind this slinky cat-woman and trying to keep my mind off her sexy body and the lustful thoughts that filled my head.

Bathsheba checked the double-bed for size and then fell on top of the duvet, resting her back and head and not caring that her boots were hanging over the edge of the bed. Very rude, I thought! She closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh.

Bathsheba said, without opening her eyes: "It's been a pig of a day and I'm dog-tired, Mr Arbiter. This room looks great, just what I was looking for. I'll bring my stuff round when I move in tomorrow, if your wife agrees."

I said nothing. I was just enjoying looking at the view too much. A room with this sort of view would be very saleable.

Finally I recovered my voice: "Do you want to see the bathroom?"

She opened her eyes and replied, slowly raising herself on to her feet: "No, that's too much of a faff now. I'm sure it will be fine. I'm sure the shower works..."

Was that a sly wink she gave me there or did I imagine it? Saucy young minx!

She seemed to me to glance at my erection again -- a quick, knowing look -- before floating past me and setting off, slinky-style, down the stairs to re-join my wife, leaving me floundering in her wake. The cheeky little flirt knew exactly what she was doing, wiggling her bottom and brushing back her long hair as she went down ahead of me. Going down, what a good idea...

It was then, while I was still standing in a bit of a lust-crazed daze, that my mobile phone started ringing.

Answering it, I said: "Hello, Angela. Are you okay?"

Angela's voice came across loud, clear and irritated: "Yes, Simon. You're late. I'm at the swimming baths waiting for you. Waiting!"

I had clean forgot that I was due to meet Angela for swimming, so knocked off-balance was I by this unexpected visit from that raven-tressed, flat-share siren.

Recovering, I answered: "I'm really sorry, Angela, something urgent cropped up. I'll just grab my towel and get in the car, should be there with you in about ten minutes."

Angela did not sound pleased: "Hurry up -- or I may get tired and leave before then!"

I thought to myself I better wake up and put my mind on the redhead rather than on the dark-haired beauty. After all, Angela was a good friend and a bit of a looker too.

After we got into the pool, Angela cheered up. She enjoyed swimming. I didn't really. I just enjoyed being with Angela when she was in her swimming costume and dripping wet, with her curly red hair dangling around her face.

Why the hell else did she think I stayed friends with her for so long? Angela had always turned me on, from the first moment she walked into the pub where I was having a Friday night drink with work colleagues. She was new and I could tell she was vulnerable, unsure of her work and needing a more experienced friend. I took advantage and got her drunk and soon we were alone together in the pub and I was holding her hand, even though she and I both had partners then. That night was the first time I tried to kiss her and she avoided my lips, so I ended up slobbering over her nose, cheek and ear. Probably put her off with my beer breath. I did manage to fondle her ass though. The little tease refused my offer to walk her home, however. Why? Something about a boyfriend? I couldn't remember, I was a bit drunk after all.

My lustful gaze suddenly snapped me back to the present as, giving her body an appreciative, lingering look in the pool, I said to her: "You look great in that new swimming costume, Angela. Beautiful. Very sexy."

Angela smiled: "Thanks. You haven't complimented me like that for a long time. You must be in a good mood today. I thought I'd lost my touch, Simon!"

Was she taunting me with her sexy body, I wondered? Her swimming costume was barely there. Even more revealing than usual. It was made from two thin transparent straps fastened over her shoulders and linking together under her cleavage. Two arcs of skimpy black material served to just about cover half of each of her breasts while almost, but not quite, exposing her nipples. Another thin transparent strap went around her waist, a very brief black triangle covering her pussy. Angela was really flaunting it today. Did she regret turning down my offer to walk her home all those years ago at the pub?

I said: "It's time for me to go now, Angela. Are you ready to leave?"

Angela walked slowly towards me. She was in her mid-30s and still had a great body thanks to exercise, yoga and mainly-healthy living. I thought about Bathsheba again, a mental picture of her body entering my head as I waited for Angela to join me by the side of the pool in the shallow end. Even though I was in the water and wearing swimming trunks, I found myself getting aroused. My new passion for Bathsheba the babe seemed to have re-ignited my lust for sexy women in general. As Angela drew close to me, I put my hands under the water and started fondling the tops of her thighs. Why had I neglected this hot bitch for so long, I wondered? I wanted her.

Angela pushed my hands away and smiled. It seemed that she was a bit reluctant to do so, though.

She said: "Hey, hey, hey. What's got you feeling so frisky? Meet a sexy client today or see someone you liked on the commuter train? Are you not getting enough from Sarah these days?"

I sighed as I looked at her body. Then I replied, with Bathsheba's red lace bikini top filling my mind's eye: "I worked from home today. There was a new tenant for the spare room that my wife booked in. I opened the door to her. Beautiful young girl. She's a model."

Angela laughed: "Sarah must be slipping. Imagine bringing a young, hot woman into the family home! Don't tell me! Seeing two, hot sexy younger women in one day has got you hot and bothered, hasn't it? Your wife might reap the benefit tonight!"

I thought to myself: no chance! I can't remember the last time I had sex with Sarah. She just seemed to have lost interest in that sort of thing. Maybe all wives get like that after a few years, their attention shifting instead to holidays, furniture, taxes and mortgages. No wonder I wanted women like Bathsheba and Angela.

For too long I had done nothing about it. Well, that was going to change!

I tried to grab Angela again but she splashed away from me and I just managed to catch her wrist.

I whispered to her conspiratorially: "She's called Bathsheba. I want her. All men want her. Maybe you think that's just toxic masculinity these days."

Angela laughed again: "I knew that you and Sarah were not getting it on much now but isn't she meant to be your wife, Simon? What happened to that women you said you were attracted to at work? Kristina wasn't it? Was she your last little fling?"

Sarah and I had been married for ten years and the heat had long since been turned down in our relationship. All she seemed to want to do these days was swap texts with her friends online or watch Netflix. And dream of the babies we never had.

I had told Angela (but not Sarah) about that sexy, petite work colleague Kristina who I had gone to see a rock gig with a year ago. Somehow I had managed to talk my way into Kristina's flat and take off half her clothes before her big pet dog scared me out of the flat, half-naked. I did manage to get my cock out and come in Kristina's face, however, so the night was not a complete loss. She avoided me at work after that, of course, but at least she did not talk about it to my wife or in the office. She probably took photos on her mobile of my cum all over face and masturbated to them at night! Or maybe that's wishful thinking!

I did have a problem explaining to my wife what had happened to my shirt and trousers though. Would you believe a mugging, dear? She did. Just about!

Back to the present again! Angela quickly climbed out of the swimming pool and towel-dried her beautiful body. She draped a sheer black, maxi-length cover-up over her shoulders and tied it up loosely at her waist. It was open at the front so I could still get a generous view of her legs and cleavage.

I was still enjoying looking at Angela's exposed body, having fantasies about fucking her, as I sat beside her in the passenger seat. She had kindly offered to drive me home. I wondered if she was hoping to see the lovely Bathsheba. On the way, she also told me that she had just split up with her boyfriend.

I said: "That's too bad, Angela, but I never liked him much. He was a bit of an arrogant bastard and he always seemed jealous when I phoned to speak to you. He was not too impressed that year when I sent you a birthday present and he unwrapped it."

Angela groaned and replied: "Yes, James was always like that. Crazily jealous. Always opening my mail! Reading my emails too...I couldn't take it any more...But you really shouldn't have sent me those edible knickers for my birthday, Simon! That was asking for trouble!"

I replied: "I was hoping you'd put them on and wear them and then give them back to me so I could eat them, Angela! Or, if not, that you'd let me eat you! Maybe I shouldn't have written that on the note though!"

She was distracted by some bad driving ahead of her and that's when I took my opportunity to inject her exposed left thigh with the syringe. Angela yelped in pain and rubbed her leg.

She complained: "Ow, that hurt! Something just bit me! Was it an insect? Did you see what it was Simon?"

I had very quickly hidden the needle that I used on her and replied in the negative.

Angela moaned: "Oh, you know, I'm feeling quite faint all of a sudden. Must be the sting. Simon, do you mind taking over driving..."

I said: "Of course not, Angela. Pull over and park somewhere and I'll climb into the driver's seat while you rest in the back. You'll have more space there."

She complied with my suggestion and very soon we were on the road again, my hands on the steering wheel now and Angela in the back seat. Looking in the driver's mirror, I could see that Angela had very quickly lost consciousness.

I said, smiling to myself in the mirror: "You okay back there, Angela?"

There was no response. I expected none. My plan was going exactly to, well, plan. The merchandise was helpless, and had been collected, and now I was driving her home. To my home. Home delivery of one sexy siren, no need to hire a delivery company because I had picked her up, wet, fresh and good enough to eat. My excitement was building up and my cock was getting so hard that it was difficult to keep my mind on my driving. I just wanted to pull over into a lay-by and start fucking Angela right then and there.

When I arrived home, I climbed into the back seat and kissed Angela on the lips and on her forehead. Her eyes were shut and she was still fast asleep. Wow, I thought, I loved the way Angela used makeup around her eyes. Very sexy. I looked out the window and decided no nosey neighbour could see us. I then stroked Angela's lovely thighs and leaned my head down to lick them for a few seconds. Oh, wow, Angela, wow, Angela, you're all mine, I've been waiting for this Angela, I can do what I want to you now! All these lustful thoughts were going through my head but I had to control myself.

I lifted Angela's unconscious body out of the car, carrying her over my shoulder. I had been working out a lot recently so was in good shape to carry her using a classic fireman's lift. There was a little bit of trouble getting the key in the lock of my front door but otherwise I negotiated carrying Angela over the threshold quite successfully.

My wife was in the hallway, having heard me struggle a bit to open the door.

I said: "Hello, darling. I'm back from swimming."

My wife seemed to stare at me and the scantily-clad form of Angela I was holding for a few moments.

Then she said: "Okay, you might want to get changed or have a rest. Hope you and Angela enjoyed your swimming. Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Takeaway."

I mumbled my assent and carried Angela upstairs to the spare bedroom. I had just passed the acid test, I thought to myself, breathing a sigh of relief. Soon after I left to meet Angela for our swimming session, I received a text from my wife telling me that the temporary blindness her doctor had warned her about had just come on suddenly.

I chuckled to myself inwardly about the scene that had just played out as I crossed my domestic threshold. Hi, honey, I'm home! Just need to carry my favourite sex siren Angela to the spare room so I can fuck the ass off her! Happy for you to turn a temporary blind eye to that one, dear!

The doctor had told Sarah not to worry about the blindness, it was part of her condition following an accident at work. The symptoms were purely temporary and would last just 24 hours. Time enough for me to put my wicked scheme into action, I thought. Thoughtfully, my wife had phoned for a takeaway dinner for us to share. Having experienced similar temporary bouts of blindness in the past my wife was now quite skilled at getting around the house through sense of touch and using a convenient stick. Who needs relationship counselling, I thought, I would recommend a wife having blind spots to cure any couple's problems! Makes having affairs so much easier. Instant sex therapy!

I almost threw Angela on the bed. Heavier to carry than expected. Dear me, Angela, I thought, you've obviously been putting on a bit of weight! I noticed that the tops of Angela's tempting thighs showed some cellulite but I didn't mind, I found her legs really quite sexy like that. Authentic. Kissable. Hmm, I thought, bearing in mind that I had sneakily administered a sedative, not sure I had really given Angela a choice in this affair!

It did not take me long to remove Angela's swimming costume -- what there was of it! Now she was naked, fast asleep and completely in my power. At my mercy, you might say, and I had no mercy for one of my oldest, dearest female friends. All I was experiencing at the moment was lust and she was the sex object I wanted to sate that lust on.

I removed the box of tricks from under the bed and took out the bondage restraints I wanted to use on Angela's naked body. I lay her on the double-bed with her red curly hair propped up on a pillow and spread her legs wide. I put the padded black harness neck rest under her head and pulled the bondage straps down past her breasts and fastened the loops around her thighs. Then I attached wrist bands to her hands and used the buckles and straps to tie one hand to one outstretched thigh and the other hand to the other leg. She was now completely unable to resist even if she woke up.

I stripped off completely and joined Angela on the bed. I started by kissing and licking her face, kissing her firmly on the lips and then sticking my tongue in her mouth. While I was doing this, I was fondling and squeezing her big breasts and tweaking her nipples and rubbing the shaft of my hard cock against one of her thighs. I also ran my fingers through her red, curly hair.